hymn to the tune of a dirge
by VioletzeEcoFreak
Summary: A mad scientist, the girl he loves, and the archnemesis he hates. Hetalia/Dr. Horrible fusion.
1. Act I

A/N: This fic has some spots of very weird formatting, all done intentionally. It's mostly bits of Canada's monologues, intentionally formatted to look like conversations, Prussia's two poems, and forum posts.

-...-

_Lady Armageddon  
_2010-03-09 08:55 pm (local) (link)  
Hey, America! Glad to see you're working on your laugh. It's so depressing, most wannabes these days think just doing random acts of evil and making an ass of themselves will earn them the title of supervillain. But it's the _classics_ that set the supervillain apart from the psychopath. It always makes me happy when I see a classical villain. Oh, and try this website [link] for some good theatrical laugh tips.

_America  
_2010-03-11 10:56 am (local) (link)  
Thanks, Armageddon. I tried some of the tips with my coach yesterday, and she said I was "greatly improved". Yay!

Ah, the classics really do give supervillains their panache, huh?

-.

evil "genius" my foot  
_2sly4U  
_2010-03-09 09:42 pm (local) (link)  
hey, genius! where are the gold bars you were supposed to pull out of that bank vault with your transmatter ray? obviously it failed or it would be in the papers.

Re: evil "genius" my foot  
_America  
_2010-03-11 11:01 am (local) (link)

Wow, sarcasm! How original.

...

Anyways, they wouldn't be saying anything in the press, but check this out.

[image:smellslikecumin]

That's the bouillon... er, _bullion_. The process is still a little... uh, the molecules shifted on the way. It's not about making money, anyways. It's about upsetting the status quo. The world is a mess, and I just need to... rule it.

-.

_Bad_Horse_rules!  
_2010-03-09 11:03 pm (local) (link)  
Cool, man! League membership will be yours this year for sure! What's the Freeze Ray you keep talking about?

_America  
_2010-03-11 11:05 am (local) (link)  
Well, I'm hopefully. That letter of condemnation from the deputy mayor is really a boost this year. So, thanks, Tim.

The freeze ray should stop time, once I get the phlebotinum I need to fuel it.

-.

WTH DUDE?  
_JohnnySnow  
_2010-03-09 12:54 am (local) (link)  
america, i c u r ones again afraid 2 d obattle w/ur nemisis, i w8d dooly park 4 45 mins. 4 u. WHt gives?

Re: WTH DUDE?  
_America  
_2010-03-11 11:08 am (local) (link)  
"Dude", you are _not_ my nemesis. My real nemesis is that idiot Poland. He dislocated my shoulder… again. Last week.

Look, I'm just trying to change the world. I don't have time for a grudge match with every poser in a parka. Besides, there are kids in that park.

-.

_LiechtensteinGirl  
_2010-03-10 07:30 am (local) (link)  
Hello, America~ I must say, I admire you for wanting to _change_ things in politics. If you ran for a government position in my area I would certainly vote for you.

_America  
_2010-03-11 11:10 am (local) (link)  
Thanks, uh, Liechtenstein, but I'm tired of the government. If we want to make things better, we have to do it by ourselves, away from the self-running bureaucracy.

-.

_DeadnotSleeping  
_2010-03-10 08:29 pm (local) (link)  
Long-time watcher, first time commenter, I'm a huge fan of this blog and I completely agree with you, this government is a _joke_.

Hey, you always say in your blog that you will "show her the way", show "her" you're a true villain. Who is "her" and does she even know you're alive?

-.

Canada stared blankly at the screen, his response still untyped. Truth be told, he wasn't entirely sure what to say about her. He could hardly convey exactly how he felt about her without sounding soft, and softness was exactly what he had wanted to avoid when he created his pseudonym of "America". He'd been successful for the most part, able to brazenly speak his mind in his videos and rants (replying to comments was something different entirely, but he did try his best to be polite).

But DeadnotSleeping's question had already gotten to him. Canada considered saying that he knew her from the nearby Laundromat. He'd seen her there, sorting her sweaters, and found her pretty. A little observation told him that she was friendly enough as well, albeit easily moved to tears and constantly wringing her hands in worry. She also seemed rather shy, and did not initiate conversations very often. Canada could sympathise there. He had the same problem, being shy and apparently not distinct enough.

But saying how she made him feel? Canada couldn't do that. Around her, he felt like a fool. Kind of sick, like he had special needs. Soon, though, that wouldn't matter. When his freeze ray was done he'd be able to commit any act of evil he wanted, certainly, but he could use it to stop time in the Laundromat as well. And if he did that, perhaps he could finally get the courage to finally talk to her.

And if he spoke with her, perhaps he could show her he was the one she wanted. That was the plan anyways, to rule the world side-by-side with her. Together, they could make time stand still and change the world for the better. The world he wanted would be at their feet.

Canada was disturbed out of his fantasy by someone coming through the door. He left it unlocked while he was home, feeling trapped when he locked himself in his apartment. There was only one person who would come in anyways, and that was his henchman/friend Korea.

"Good morning!" Korea said brightly. He smiled and walked straight towards Canada, holding his mail. It had been a habit he developed, stealing the key to Canada's mailbox and then leaving stuff inside it like bricks and water balloons and very small rocks. Eventually, he had decided he should just bring the mail and the bricks up to Canada so he could see his friend's reaction to the mail. Then Korea had discovered carrying a brick up three floors was difficult and tiresome, and so he stopped bringing things other than Canada's mail upstairs.

"Good morning," Canada replied absently, logging off. "What's going on?"

"Life of crime," Korea replied happily. He handed over the mail and Canada carefully started going through it.

"Didn't you go on a date last night?" he asked. (Electric bill, flier for a self-confidence seminar, flier for the nearby grocery store…) "Thailand mentioned you were going on a double date with two girls."

"Yeah…" Korea said glumly. Canada prompted him, and he continued, "It was with Hungary and Belarus."

"Oh. I saw Ukraine today," he added, trying to distract Korea from what must have been some miserable memories. His friend, while very cheerful and enthusiastic, had trouble keeping his hands to himself when he was around girls.

"Did you talk to her yet?" Korea asked, perking up at the mention of Canada's own miserable love life.

"So close," Canada hissed. "I think I'm only a few weeks away from a real audible connection." Korea sighed, exasperated. Then Canada muttered, "Oh my god."

"Is it from the League?"

"It's from _him_, here's his seal," he replied, showing Korea the Iron Cross imprinted onto a black wax seal. Korea gibbered a little, and Canada stared speechlessly. He had a letter from Prussia himself.

Heart pounding, he slowly opened the letter, uncertainly thinking that perhaps it would simply explode or something. Prussia was an incredible villain, but he was not known for being sensible and controlled. But the envelope clearly held no explosives, because Canada was able to pull the letter out unharmed. It said:

_Hey kid,  
__I saw the application  
__That you just sent in  
__It needs evaluation  
__So let the games begin.  
__Show us that you're evil  
__Any way you can.  
__Cause a great upheaval  
__Or display an evil plan.  
__And if so inclined,  
__Kill a man or two.  
__I do it to unwind.  
__Who cares if it's taboo?  
__The Evil League of Evil  
__Is watching, so beware.  
__The grade that you receive  
__Will be your last, we swear.  
__So make the Great Me happy,  
__Or you'll become my glitch.  
__Do something, make it snappy,  
__We don't care which._

_Signed,  
__Prussia._

"A poem?" Korea said in disbelief. Canada wasn't listening.

"This is great," he whispered. "I'm about to pull a major heist. You remember, the phlebotinum I need for the freeze ray? They're transporting it tomorrow."

"Armoured car?" Korea suggested. He didn't want to think about the last time the two of them had gotten tangled in the messy business of armoured cars and tanks. Then again, he didn't want to think about tanks at all. Not after what England and Russia had done.

"Courier van," Canada corrected. "Candy from a baby." Not that he would ever steal candy from a baby. He was evil, not an asshole.

"You need your henchman? Or one of my inventions?" Korea asked. It was true that he was an inventor in his spare time, but Canada would never call his inventions great innovations that would improve the lives of humanity. So he was glad when he could honestly say "no" this time.

"Sorry, but the League is watching. I need to do this one alone."

-...-

Ukraine stood on a sidewalk in front of an abandoned building. There was a heap of trash bags only a few feet to her right, but a little discomfort wouldn't stop her from trying to gather signatures.

"Would you lend a caring hand to shelter those who need it?" she asked a man as he walked purposefully past. A woman was coming from the opposite direction, so she tried again. "Only have to sign your name, don't even have to read it." People weren't listening to her. She'd just have to try again.

-...-

Only a few blocks away, Canada was staking out the area. He was in a back alley, holding a duffel bag that had all his supplies necessary for the heist. The courier van was only a short distance away. He rummaged through his duffel and found some binoculars. Peering through them, he saw the driver leaving the van to go get the phlebotinum. A smile crossed Canada's face. He was just in time.

He put the binoculars away and found a small cylindrical device in the bottom of his bag. He held it carefully and tossed it towards the van. Between the facts it was very light and highly magnetic, the cylinder practically floated towards the van and stuck to the top of it. Another smile.

Finally, Canada found his remote, stuck in the middle of his lab coat disguise. He clicked away at it until the cylinder and remote were communicating and he had gotten control of the van. He punched the "gas" button and was delighted to hear the van start up.

Suddenly, a voice from behind him asked quite loudly, "Would you lend a caring hand?"

Except, he couldn't hear the last bit of the question in his startled yelp. The speaker squeaked in shock and jumped back a little. Canada turned to face her and immediately his shock increased exponentially. Ukraine was here. Talking to him. Initiating a conversation. All he could manage out was a "what".

"Oh, um, if I could just get…" she trailed off and began to smile. "Oh, I know you, don't I?"

"Ah, hello. You know me? Cool- I mean, yeah, I think you do," Canada said. He was reeling. She _knew_ him? All these years he'd been told he was rather unremarkable and difficult to notice and she knew him? He was starting to go into a very un-manly tizzy just thinking about it.

"From the Laundromat?" Ukraine asked carefully. Her smile was still in place, but now with a mix of uncertainty.

"Wednesdays and Saturdays except twice a month you skip the weekend," Canada said before he could stop himself. Halfway through he realised he sounded like a stalker. And that was… _bad_. Sure, he'd been carefully observing her habits, but it wasn't stalking. He hoped. Either way, he had to fix it. "Or, if that was you…" he added in a mumbled. "It could've been, uh, someone else… I mean, I've _seen_ you…" Ukraine's smile was fading and she was starting to look confused. "I'm Canada," he finally said. At least there he was on mostly solid ground.

"I'm Ukraine," she replied, holding out her hand with a fresh grin. Canada almost reached out for a moment, then realised he couldn't just let go of his remote. He clicked a few more buttons to make sure the connection was maintained and Ukraine pulled back her hand. She looked a little wounded, and Canada promised himself that when he was finally in the League he would make this up to her. He hated being rude, but this was a necessary evil. "What are you doing?" she finally asked.

"Texting," he lied quickly. "It's very important, or I would stop. What're you doing?" Yes, best to keep her attention elsewhere.

"Actually, I'm out here doing volunteer work for the Caring Hands shelter. Could you spare a minute?" She sounded more confident and Canada's pulse skipped a beat. As much as she was cute when she was being sweet and unassuming, he was quickly finding that her being forward was much more appealing.

He turned to the van. The driver still wasn't back and there was no one around but the two of them. Would he have enough time? He tried to quickly measure the pros and cons. "Okay, go."

"Um, we're helping to open a new location, trying to expand our effort. And there's a great building nearby that the city just wants to demolish and turn into a parking lot. But, if we get enough signatures-"

"Signatures?" Canada scoffed. It was quiet, but enough to stop Ukraine's speech. He wasn't really sure how to elaborate on his comment. A few years ago, when he would only go so far as committing the very least of necessary evils for the benefit of society, he'd tried signature-collecting and petition-holding, only for his cause to be ignored by the municipal government and apathetic public. The memory was not one Canada liked, even if it had spurred him on to create his "America" persona and become seriously invested in the world of evil.

"I'm sorry, go on," he said sincerely.

"Well, maybe we can convince the city to donate the building to us instead." She was still talking, but Canada was getting sidetracked. The connection between the remote and device was starting to get choppy, and he really needed to restore it. Ukraine cut through his thoughts again.

"Are you actually interested in the homeless?" she asked.

"No, no, I am," Canada replied. "But they're a symptom, and no one's addressing the disease that's taking over society. The fish rots from the head, so why don't we just cut off the head?"

"Of the human race?"

Canada blushed. "It's not a perfect metaphor," he admitted. "I just think, we should overhaul the system. Give other people the power."

"Oh, well, that's good, too," Ukraine said. There was a moment of silence. "This petition is just about the building."

"I'd love to sign," Canada replied, taking the pen she offered. He came in close to place his signature on the clipboard. "Sorry, I just… am really passionate about some things."

"Well, you signed," Ukraine replied. Now there was a genuine, thankful smile on her face. She did seem to smile a lot, despite their interesting conversation. It was a very pretty smile.

"I don't want to turn my back on someone in need," Canada replied. Ukraine was saying something in reply, but his remote had just started squawking at him. The driver was returning, holding the briefcase of phlebotinum. He mentally cussed. Why'd she have to come by now? He vaguely heard her saying something that sounded like a goodbye.

"No, I will-" he began to say. But she was probably already out of earshot. "She talked to me," he sighed, glancing at his remote. "Why'd it have to be _now_?"

Canada looked towards Ukraine. She was still walking away, but if he really wanted to he could follow her and try and strike up a better conversation. As long as they avoided social issues, he was certain any discussions they had would go along swimmingly.

But America turned away. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do," he reminded himself softly. "You don't plan a plan without following through." He strode away with confident steps, smirking. This would be an easy heist, and when he was finished he could make the final touches on his freeze ray, get into the Evil League of Evil, and prove to Ukraine he could be a true villain. He would make social reform when he finally got into power, and he would give his little activist every homeless shelter she wanted.

"All that matters is taking matters into your own hands," America said, changing into his long lab coat and setting his goggles on top of his head. He tugged on his heavy gloves and hummed cheerfully to himself. "Soon I'll control everything, and my wish will be your command."

He activated the remote and set the carrier van driving away. The security guard who was supposed to be driving the van chased after it, but it was clearly too late. America switched on the camera to see where the van was going. Suddenly, the whole thing jostled, as if something had landed on it. America immediately knew who it was.

"Stand back everyone, nothing here to see!" Poland shouted from his position atop the moving van. "Just danger, and in the middle of it, me! Yup, Poland's here, fabulous hair blowing in the breeze! The day just needs some of my day-savingness!" He crushed the device on the van with his fist.

"No!" America shouted, running from his safe position in the back alley as his connection was abruptly cut off. Poland was indeed on top of the van, shouting about how a man had to do what a man had to do. The van, suddenly uncontrolled, began to swerve as the device sent broken orders to the vehicle.

Poland had jumped off of the van entirely, and was hitting on a girl. The van abruptly turned into an alleyway while Canada pounded the brake. The camera suddenly came back online, and in the distorted image America could see Ukraine getting rapidly closer and closer. His heart nearly stopped completely. Poland jumped in and shoved Ukraine away just as the connection was made again and the brake activated.

"Idiot!" America shouted, running up to Poland.

"America, I should've guessed. Don'tcha, y'know, have a _hobby_ or somethin'?"

Canada ignored the question completely. "You almost killed her."

"Yeeeah… no."

He was about to ask for Ukraine's well-being when Poland wrapped one strong hand around his throat. For all of Poland's airheadedness and utterly bizarre manner of speech, he was still endowed with super-strength and knew how to use it.

"I think it's curtains for you, America. The lacy kind." Canada looked distinctly confused for a moment, but before Poland could do anything else Ukraine started climbing out of the heap of trash bags.

"Th-thank you so much," she said timidly. She tripped over a bag and squeaked. A smile was beginning to cross Poland's face as he watched Ukraine. He absently smacked Canada's head against the hood of the van a few times, but it was not nearly as violent as usual. Ukraine was blushing, seemingly oblivious to Canada's presence.

"Don't worry about it," Poland dismissed. He made a grand gesture and flung Canada away. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do!"

Canada just leaned on the van, heaving for breath. When he finally looked at them he demanded, "Are you kidding?" Poland was being his ridiculous, grandiose self, and Ukraine seemed utterly enraptured. "What heist were you watching?"

Poland was just ignoring him. "Seems like destiny wanted me to save you." She smiled timidly, and Poland took two steps forward. He seemed to be taking in just how pretty Ukraine was, and it made Canada sick.

"Stop looking at her like that," he said. He was duly ignored. Remembering the phlebotinum in the back, Canada went to retrieve it. "Didn't you notice that he threw you in the garbage?" he grumbled bitterly. Once he had the phlebotinum in hand he saw them through the front window. They appeared to be flirting. But, Canada wanted to say, _I_ stopped the van. The remote control was in _my_ hands. Whatever, he would deal with the problem later.


	2. Act II

When Ukraine gave Poland her phone number after being rescued by him, she hadn't expected to be asked out so soon. She'd accepted eagerly, and proposed they have dinner in one of her favourite places. It hadn't occurred to her that perhaps a soup kitchen wasn't the best of places to go on a date, she just wanted to show the superhero what sort of things she helped with. He seemed pretty interested, too.

"Look around," she told him, "we're living with the lost and found." Poland smiled and nodded and she felt like she had to continue. "These people were all in trouble, and we brought them back to solid ground. They just prove, there's good in everybody's heart. We just have to keep it safe, give people hope, and their lives can turn around." Poland was still smiling and watching her, and it warmed her heart to see the hero amongst some of the poorest people in the city. Perhaps this would help bring awareness to the homelessness problem in the city.

But in reality, she was already hopeful. She often couldn't believe her eyes, because it seemed as though the world was finally growing wise. Perhaps it was only just her, but it felt as though there was a kind of harmony growing in the world.

The dinner at the soup kitchen had gone excellently, and at the end of the dinner Poland asked Ukraine if she wanted to go somewhere tomorrow, too. She had accepted (how could she _not_?) and the next day they went out to the park together. They sat on a bench quietly, eating frozen yogurt. Take it slow, Ukraine reminded herself. At the same time, he simply _looked_ at her and seemed to know the things she was afraid to show him. And it felt so nice to be with Poland, because he was kind of sweet and made her smile.

He got into a paddle-boat and began driving across the lake at an astounding speed, taking moments to wave at her when she was in eyeshot. He had to be using his super-strength to go that fast. And it made her laugh, because it was simply such an absurd sight.

-...-

Canada had guessed that Poland would ask Ukraine out, but he hadn't realised it would be so soon. He was making the walk to the soup kitchen Ukraine seemed to frequent as a volunteer, muttering to himself all the while. "Anyone with half a brain would see that humanity's gone insane. Now I don't even know if I'd upset the status quo if I threw poison in the water main." People kept their distance from him, but he really did not care if he looked insane or not. Who cared what the crowds believed?

All around him, he could hear the sounds of breaking hearts, of hopes and dreams shattering apart and crashing to the ground. He hated it.

He walked past the front door of the soup kitchen, opting to come in from the back. He passed a window and saw Ukraine and Poland dining together, smiling and laughing. It looked like genuine date. "I can't believe my eyes," he whispered, "how much filth and lies there is in the world. But it's plain to see the evil inside of me is on the rise."

He sneaked into the soup kitchen, taking a fake moustache from his pocket and sticking it on haphazardly. Putting on an apron, Canada made his way to the front, where another worker was ladling the _soup de jour_ (cauliflower, it looked like). He took the worker's place with little fuss and started to ladle the cauliflower soup into the bowls people held out to him, staring at the back of Poland's head.

Bushes were not a very comfortable hiding place, Canada knew from experience. But they worked, and after a while he'd finally given in a purchased a fake, movable one from the internet. This one was moderately more comfortable and certainly more mobile than a genuine bush. He poked his head out of the top and saw Ukraine and Poland sitting together, enjoying some frozen yogurt.

The angle was awkward, and so he lifted the bush and set it down only a few feet behind the bench. From his point of view he could see Poland shooing away some geese with his foot while Ukraine remained blissfully oblivious. She seemed to be constantly unaware that the dark was everywhere, and soon that dark in him was all that would remain.

When they moved to the water's edge, Canada put away his bush (and hadn't that gotten him strange looks) and he moved to the bridge nearby. Poland was behaving ridiculously, as usual, but Ukraine was watching him and laughing. Canada couldn't understand why Poland made her smile, not when it was so obvious what sort of person he was.

-...-

"I can't believe we've been coming here for so long and never spoken," Ukraine said, taking her laundry and tossing it into a washing machine.

"I know," Canada replied. Did he ever. "All those months doing such a boring chore…"

Ukraine was silent for a moment before replying, "I like doing laundry."

Oh. Well. Canada tried to recover himself. "Nah, I actually love it."

"The smell of fabric softener," she suggested. Well, it _was_ pleasant. "Feeling your clothes soft and warm." That, Canada would admit, did feel very good.

Finally finished dropping his clothes in the machine, he reached over to grab the paper bag he'd left on the adjacent washer. "Huh," he muttered, "this is strange. I asked for one frozen yogurt and they gave me two… Do you like frozen yogurt?"

"I love it," Ukraine admitted.

"How serendipitous," he remarked, handing over the yogurt and a spork. He sat down on his machine and leaned on the coin dispenser, eating a spoonful of yogurt. "So how was your weekend?" he asked. "Did you spend it getting more signatures?"

"Actually," Ukraine replied, turning red, "I went on a date."

"Really?" Canada asked. "And how did that go?"

"It was a surprise," she admitted. "He's very good-looking, and I sort of thought he was weird at first."

"Trust your instincts," Canada advised in a breath.

"But he is also very sweet," she added. "Sometimes people are like that, very different underneath the surface."

"And sometimes there's a third, even deeper layer under that, that's exactly the same as the first," he said. Ukraine looked up at him, politely baffled by his statement. Canada bit the inside of his cheek for a brief second. Why did he have to constantly say those stupid things? "Like with pie," he added. "So are you going to see him again?"

"I think I will," she said, staring at her yogurt. Canada nodded and planted a smile on his face, keeping his jaw tightly shut.

Finally, Ukraine said, "Canada?" He made a noise in response in order to stop himself from letting out a string of curses. "What are you doing with your spork?" Now Canada looked down at his hand, and surprised to see he was gripping it tightly, driving the little plastic tines into his leg. Ouch. It actually kind of hurt now.

"Oh, nothing," he lied with a little laugh. Ukraine laughed uneasily and he replied with another giggle.

-...-

Re: Freeze ray is finished!  
_JohnnySnow  
_2010-03-16 3:02 pm (local) (link)  
thats such a lame frze ray, mind is much coole rthan yours (haha, geddit?). i bet you'll get caut.

Re: Freeze ray is finished!  
_Lady Armageddon  
_2010-03-16 4:30 pm (local) (link)  
Damn troll. I think I'll dredge the forums again soon and get rid of those.

-.

Re: Freeze ray is finished!  
_Lady Armageddon  
_2010-03-16 4:21 pm (local) (link)  
Good luck on your mission, America.

Oh dear, problems in your personal life? If Poland is as big an idiot as you say, the girl's going to eventually notice, and then you can play the rebound. Just wait things through, you'll see.

-.

Re: Freeze ray is finished!  
_LiechtensteinGirl  
_2010-03-16 4:40 pm (local) (link)  
Are you sure it's wise to say these things on your blog? Surely _someone_ with connections to the law sees this regularly and is able to react to what you post. I would hate to see anyone like yourself being accosted by the law for trying to change things.

Either way, I wish you the best of luck on your mission and in getting back the girl you like. She's bound to notice someone as passionate about things like you given time.

-.

Re: Freeze ray is finished!  
_Bad_Horse_rules!  
_2010-03-16 6:54 pm (local) (link)  
Can't wait to see you in the League, man!

-...-

_Lady Armageddon  
_2010-03-16 8:47 pm (local) (link)  
Consider your forums dredged of all trolls, heroes, and obvious policemen.

A _car_ at your head? Does Poland even _think_ that the car might belong to someone? At least you survived, but there really should be a law against behaving like an utter asshat.

_America  
_2010-03-16 8:55 pm (local) (link)  
Thank you for getting the forums, I really wasn't looking forward to going through them tomorrow.

Try telling that to _our_ municipal government. People were cheering when Poland almost decapitated me. _Cheering_.

-.

that was fail  
_2sly4U  
_2010-03-16 9:34 pm (local) (link)  
you honestly forgot about warm-up times? that's stupid, you invented the thing. if you're going to be serious about this whole "ruling the world" thing you have to slow down and think these things through, so that you won't get hit by a car a hero was throwing at you.

-.

Last chance, kid.  
_Prussia  
_2010-03-16 10:13 pm (local) (link)  
I saw the operation  
You tried to pull today,  
But your humiliation  
Means I still vote "nay".  
And now assassination  
Is just the only way…  
There will be blood,  
It might be yours,  
So go kill someone.

Signed,  
Prussia

PS. Not every letter I send is the f-ing Iliad, get over it.

Re: Last chance, kid.  
_Bad_Horse_rules!  
_2010-03-16 11:02 pm (local) (link)  
Holy _shit_, a comment from Prussia? Seriously?

-...-

Canada nearly fainted when he saw a comment from Prussia on his most recent blog entry. He'd gone to sleep utterly miserable, and now the rest of the day wasn't looking so hot, either.

"Kill someone?" Korea asked when he came over. He enjoyed occasionally lurking on Canada's blog, it made sense he would know about Prussia's letter without it being explained.

"Would you?" Canada wondered. "To get into the Evil League of Evil?"

Korea scoffed. "I'm not badass enough to have a hope of getting in, as long as my inventions keep falling apart. At least yours _work_ most of the time." He handed Canada his mail and made his way towards the kitchen. Canada followed.

"Killing isn't… I've avoided hurting people besides Poland up to now-" Korea laughed at him, "-why would I want to suddenly kill someone?" His mail contained the usual. Fliers for self-confidence lectures, a small booklet of supermarket coupons, someone else's mail…

"You've done more than enough evil hours to get in the Henchmen Union. It could be fun, you hanging out with all of us. You remember Seychelles, right? She'd die of joy if you joined." He went into his cupboards and found a jar of peanut butter.

"I'm not a henchman," Canada dismissed. "I'm America, one of the greatest evil minds to walk the earth."

"Lex Luthor wouldn't be happy to hear you saying that," Korea said, dipping his finger in the peanut butter. Canada tactfully ignored him.

"I deserve to get in, you know I do. But… killing someone?" He started to pace nervously.

"I hear Russia found a kid that grows up to be president of some big country. That would be big, wouldn't it?" Korea replied, his mouth full of peanut butter.

"There's no way I'm going to kill a little kid," Canada snapped back. He was evil, not a psychopath. There was a huge difference.

"Smother an old lady," Korea added between another finger of peanut butter.

"Do I even know you?" he challenged. Korea just shrugged. Perhaps if he kept this up he could convince Canada to call off the whole killing thing once and for all.

-...-

Canada sat with Ukraine on top of the washing machines, both of them enjoying a frozen yogurt. This conversation seemed to be coming easier, if he could judge by the fewer number of awkward pauses.

"I just… I think I'm really qualified for this job," he explained glumly. "And I can't seem to get my foot in the door."

"I'm sure you will," Ukraine encouraged with a smile. Nothing if not an optimist, a trait Canada couldn't help but admire.

"I just… want to do great things in life. To be an achiever. Like Prussia," he admitted. Ukraine's face immediately twisted into one of bafflement and alarm, quite a contrast from what was becoming her default expression around him, a look of polite confusion and great interest. "I meant Gandhi," he lied uselessly. However, Ukraine seemed to be okay with that correction and instantly relaxed.

"Well, I've been turned done many times during job applications. Even fired." She shrugged and took another sporkful of frozen yogurt.

"I can't imagine anyone firing you," Canada replied with a blush.

"Neither did I," Ukraine mumbled. "Now I can… very well." She sighed a little. "But, everything happens-"

"Please don't say 'for a reason'," Canada cut off.

"No," she replied softly, "just, everything happens."

He looked away and breathed a sad, "Not to me."

Ukraine turned so that her feet were dangling off the end of the machine and stared at her frozen yogurt. "There once was a little girl who grew up very sad and lonesome. She had a younger brother and sister whom she loved very much, but it always seemed like there was trouble dogging her home and family. So the younger brother and sister left me." She blushed a touch, but continued. "It hurt. A lot. I haven't talked face to face with them in years, although I do see them sometimes. But I noticed, no matter sad my life was, it always seemed there were people with a sadder lot in life. I decided to help them. Since then my dreams have been easier to reach, seeing as hope is all I want to give…" She set aside her yogurt and slid off the washing machine, wandering slowly to the large windows at the front of the Laundromat. Canada followed silently.

"But, something I've learned... even when bad things happen, something good can be found in it. Like the rain. It causes so much trouble, but every drop of rain brings water to seeds in the ground." She sat down on the sole bench in the Laundromat and gestured for Canada to sit with her. He stared at his own leg, unwilling to look Ukraine in the eye. Her gentle optimism was admirable, and he wanted to make sure she would always find the good in life, but he couldn't stand to look at her and say his world was far too dark for that.

One of her hands slipped under his chin and he turned up to face her, trying to hide his surprise. She held his gaze and said, "So keep your head up, Canada. You can do it."

Her fingertips were very soft, and the sweetness of her voice was making his stomach flip. He felt kind of sick, but in a good way, tingling even as his breath started to go ragged and his cheeks took on a slight flush. This was such a nice feeling, he leaned forward a little, intent on soaking in some more. Ukraine seemed to be feeling the same, they way she was moving towards him, just a little.

Suddenly, her hand was gone and she turned away with a blush. "It's like what Poland is always saying," she explained hurriedly. Canada's shoulders sank and he looked down again, the nice tingling replaced with a feeling of general heaviness, especially in his chest.

"Right," he said, trying to keep that dark heaviness from coming into his voice. "So, how are things with Mr. weird-on-the-outside?"

"Good, they're... they're good," Ukraine said. Canada took a glance out of the corner of his eye and saw her mouth a little. "He's nice." She suddenly turned to him again, and he couldn't help but mimic the movement. "I'm curious to see what you think of him, he said he might come over."

Canada's eyes widened and his pulse sped up. "Come over _here_?" he asked, trying to stay calm. Ukraine nodded.

"Oh, goodness," he said. He needed an excuse to leave, _now_. He looked to his watch and pulled down his sleeve. Right, he had lent the watch to Korea for the afternoon while his was getting fixed. "Look at my wrist," he said quickly, "I have to run." He stood and tried to rush towards the door without looking suspicious.

"What about your clothes?" Ukraine asked.

Well, that was a reasonable question. He turned to his washer and looked inside. He was completely uninterested in his clothes, but if he didn't seem worried he would be even more suspicious than if he just ran out.

"I don't love these," he replied, the words coming out of his mouth without a thought. He slammed the lid down and tried to leave, only to collide with something or someone extremely solid. He winced and took a step back, ducking to check his pained shoulder.

"Oh, m'bad," Poland said flippantly. Canada apologised back, taking a quick glance up to see that it was in fact Poland. He ducked his head again.

"Oh, Canada, this is Poland," Ukraine introduced, coming to Poland's side with a smile.

"Canada, the laundry buddy? You're so adorable," the hero gushed, shaking his hand with a smirk. "How'd you score such a cute friend, Ukraine?" he asked, turning to his girlfriend.

"We've been doing laundry here for ages," she provided.

"But you do look, like, crazy familiar," Poland added, looking Canada in the eye. Or trying to. He was looking to the side, blinking excessively, anything to keep his identity under wraps.

"One of those faces?" Canada suggested. He prayed, let it only be a coincidence...

"Nah, you look like the all-American dude from my high school!" Poland declared with a grin. Canada's heart skipped a beat. It had to be a coincidence, just a coincidence that he looked "American".

"Anyways, who wants to get into some mayoral gossip?" he asked, now looking squarely at Ukraine. "'Cause I heard that a certain building is gonna be turned into, y'know, a homeless shelter?"

"Oh my," Ukraine gasped, a hand in front of her mouth. It was still clear she was grinning, though.

"I know 'cause I gave the signature that convinced him," he boasted. "The only one he needed was my fist!" There was a brief pause as Poland held up his fist before he amended his statement, "With a pen in it, so that I can sign, duh."

"That's wonderful!" Ukraine said, getting excited.

"Congratulations," Canada mumbled. But Ukraine was thanking Poland, a huge smile on her face. She threw her arms around his neck and they kissed. Canada glanced away, hoping his stomach wouldn't turn quite so violently. Suddenly the drier buzzed and Ukraine left to get her clothes, Poland smiling after her.

"Well, this has been fun, wish I could stay, but sorry, I-" Canada said all in one breath. Poland sidestepped in front of Canada instead and slung a chummy arm around him.

"Welp, it was cool to finally get to meet you, America," he said brightly. Canada's heart sank into his stomach and all at once he knew he'd lost. He turned to Ukraine to make sure she hadn't heard, and then back to Poland for only a second. His shoes were suddenly terribly interesting and one of the only things in the room he could bear to look at.

"You've gotta crush on her, don'tcha? Well, I'm so not sorry to say this, anyways. See, I think I'm gonna bring 'Kraine down to my pad, and, y'know, do something totally fun. Like show her some of my awesome cars and braid her hair n'stuff. Then maybe we could, I dunno, play dress-up or somethin'? Y'know, make her totally hot'n bothered. She digs me now, but jus' wait a bit and she'll be head over heels. I think I'll, like, give her the night of her life." He grasped Canada by the shoulders and made the smaller man face him. "Jus' cause you want her. And I get all that stuff you want."

Canada tried to look him in the eyes, feeling something just behind his ribs crumble into dust. He wondered if his knees were shaking from the sheer blow. Still, he gaze remained hard, his instinctive dislike of Poland trumping whatever shock his system could and would endure.

"I know that I like to, like, whale on you likea hammer and stuff, but when I'm with Ukraine," he held up his fists menacingly but did not hit Canada, "these ain't my hammer." He turned to leave, Canada still standing and reeling despite his resolute face. Poland turned around at the door, as if he had remembered something, and returned.

"The hammer is my penis," he added. Ukraine returned a moment later, holding her basket of clean laundry, and Poland slipped an arm around her as they left, Ukraine casting one fleeting smile at Canada in the process.

Canada's knees stopped trembling and his nausea ceased, that crumbled thing in his chest replaced with something hard and unbending. Canada couldn't handle this, but America certainly could. He went back to his washer calmly, waiting for the machine to finish. It only took a minute to do so, and as he moved his cold, soggy clothes to the drier he whispered, "This used to be a moral dilemma, didn't it? I swore to eliminate the worst of the plague that is devouring humanity, and it's true I was vague on the 'how'. So how is it that you showed me the light?"

He sat in silence on the bench in the Laundromat and waited for his clothes to dry. He was thinking back, to all the times he'd been beaten into unconsciousness by Poland. A spring afternoon had found him interrupted in a small stake-out he was doing for Hungary, Poland lifted him by his collar, slammed him into the alley wall, and then did so again. And again. When some red started staining the wall Poland had stopped and let him slump to the ground, coming to a few hours later when Hungary found him.

The sweltering heat of summer brought him to that same alley (the bloodstains still on the wall), and when Poland found him. Holding him by his collar, he slammed his fist into the villain's jaw repeatedly, only halting once so a tourist could take a photograph of the beating before Poland continued. Autumn there had been no better, with him left on the ground spitting blood as he passed out, all thanks to one extremely powerful crack to the mouth. Winter, though. Winter had to be the worst. It had been snowing, and he had been left there overnight, no Hungary to check on him. In the end, Korea had found him, hypothermic and unconscious under a good centimetre of snow. It had taken him a week to get back to something close to normal, and even longer to get back to a hundred percent.

Well, that passive, nice guy thing would have to stop. If Poland was not going to hold back, he couldn't either. It was a brand new day, after all. He would just have to make the best of it.

He returned to his apartment and picked up the photograph of Ukraine he kept nicely framed on his side table. He serenely ran one finger down the frame, admiring how the leaves framing the shot gave a slightly supernatural feel to the woman, who had been sitting on a park bench and reading when he took the shot. Then he set the picture aside and went into his lab, pulling on a labcoat as he went. He had some work to do.


	3. Act III

Transcript taken from Channel 7 News, March 18, 2010

_KENT: And now on a lighter note: The local Caring Hands charity has been a constant presence in the city, offering the homeless a warm meal and bed, all run on the generosity of donations. And now, it seems, that the local superhero, Poland, is joining in the crusade to end homelessness. Here's my co-anchor Bonny Brockman with the rest of the story._

_BROCKMAN: Thank you, Clyde. Today Poland astounded the city in a press conference, announcing his intent to go from fighting supervillains such as the infamous Team Soviet to fighting social troubles like homelessness and illiteracy. _

_(SHOW POLAND PRESS CONFERENCE CLIP)_

_POLAND: As of today, I'm gonna be, y'know, doing stuff to save kittens from dying and helping the homeless of the city. And it's all 'cause of my sweetie, Ukraine. Give 'em a wave, Ukraine! _

_That's right, she's totally gotten me into doin' good works n'stuff. _

_(END CLIP)_

_BROCKMAN: Out on the streets is our correspondent, Cheryl Blossom. Tell us, Cheryl, how is the public taking this news._

_(FEED OF CHERYL BLOSSOM)_

_BLOSSOM: Thank you, Bonny. If the public opinion is to be believed, Poland's move towards humanitarian efforts alongside his heroics is considered a long overdue move. I have been interviewing people on the announcement all day, here are some of things that have been said._

_(INTERVIEW FOOTAGE)_

_UNKNOWN MAN: Well, it's really about time._

_GROUPIE 1: Well, he says that it's all thanks to his girlfriend, but I don't like that girl at all._

_GROUPIE 2: They say she works for the homeless and doesn't eat meat. Of course we have a problem with her!_

_UNKNOWN WOMAN: Well, as long as we're still safe from the likes of Russia and Belarus, I think Poland can do whatever the heck he wants._

_(FEED OF CHERYL BLOSSOM)_

_BLOSSOM: People have also discussed the effects of Poland's new involvement in fighting social problems, which has spurred a new wave of volunteers to help Caring Hands to open their new shelter. Back to you, Bonny._

_BROCKMAN: Thank you, Cheryl, for that story._

_KENT: It's a good day to be homeless._

_BROCKMAN: [laugh] It certainly it._

_And now: Your favourite heroes and villains. Which of them are gay?_

_-...-_

Poland turned off the television and grinned. It never got old, watching himself on the news and seeing people fawn all over him. And he could be proud of himself. His publicist had advised him to show more compassion for people, and what was more compassionate than crediting his girlfriend for his recent actions on television? She was shy and probably wouldn't have taken the limelight unless someone gave it to her, after all. The whole "helping the homeless" thing certainly couldn't hurt.

He then turned his attention to the speech his publicist had written for him. It was copied down on little cue cards, and he had to go through it at least once so his speech would sound natural. Or, at least, as natural as he could sound without using his constant slang.

But Poland's mind danced back to Ukraine, who'd been a total sweetie to him the previous few days. And, despite all the odds, she'd been a good lay. _Really_ good. Perhaps what they said about maternal women was true, he pondered. In which case, he'd have to find some actual mothers and see if they were as fantastic as he assumed. Either way, it was a pretty nice set-up, and maybe he'd be able to sleep with Ukraine a second time if he kept this up.

-...-

Ukraine sat on her washing machine, two frozen yogurts sitting beside her. Really, things were going perfectly for her. The homeless shelter would be opened soon enough, and she had a Poland to thank for it. And, to be completely honest, being the girlfriend of a hero definitely had its perks when she wasn't being put on the spot in media events.

In the end, Poland was pretty okay. His weird habits were pleasantly quirky in their own way, and his rather boisterous nature could be rather fun. Ukraine sighed. Poland was something she wasn't able to define, and she was uncertain if she actually liked it or was just thrilled by the novelty.

She heard the door open and turned to see who it was, only to be disappointed. She wondered, briefly, whether Canada had been frightened off by Poland.

-...-

Canada was fretting, pacing in his lab and glancing every so often at the whiteboard he'd placed opposite his experiments. The calculations seemed right, but he wondered if he really needed phlebotinum to fuel his improved ray gun. He could simply split the remaining phlebotinum down the middle and hope he did what he needed to quickly. That would give his death ray enough shots to scare people and do away with Poland.

He went back to his whiteboard, determining how long his freeze ray would last with the phlebotinum halved. America softly murmured, "They say there are no happy endings out there." Damn, there would not be enough time to make an effect and kill Poland if he left only half.

"At least, that's true for me," Canada added, wiping out the equation. He tried again with three-quarters.

"Stop pretending," America scolded himself. Three-quarters wasn't working either. He decided on three-fifths. Maybe that would be his happy medium. "All I've gotta do is take a chance and _build_ a brand new day."

-...-

"And in a few minutes," the mayor said, "we will unveil a statue of Poland in his honour. Your hero, ladies and gentlemen." He took a step away from the podium while the small audience applauded enthusiastically. Poland stood up from his seat next to Ukraine and took the stand, aiming the microphone up just the slightest bit.

He read the first cue card confidently. "I hate the homeless." There was a brief pause as he went to the next card. "...ness problem that plagues our city. Everyone should have the basic-" he tossed the cards aside with a scoff. "Y'know, I don't _need_ tiny cue cards." The audience looked up at him expectantly. Poland revelled in the moment, just a little. Let's see America get an audience like this! he thought.

"So, when I totally fell into love with my for-serious girlfriend, Ukraine – give them a wave, Ukraine!" The audience clapped polite for the girlfriend of their hero, but quickly fell silent. Ukraine blushed dark red and looked down at her hands.

"Isn't she the cutest ever? Not my usual kind of girlfriend, but I guess what they, like, say about maternal chicks is true." People nodded in agreement, but Ukraine's expression became one of confusion. "Anyways, she turned me onto this homeless thingy, which is, y'know, bad. And so I realise that, like, I'm not the only good guy here. I'm not the only dude fighting." He grinned at the applause, followed by an expectant silence.

"So, I know you're wondering what your part is, since you're totally homeless and, like, depressed. But home's where the heart is, so your real home's in your chest! And everyone's got, y'know, a villain they gotta face. They're not as cool as mine," he added, "but it's fine to know your place." The smiles in the audience were wide. "I mean, everyone's a hero in their own way, I guess. It's totally not that heroic, though.

"I gotta thank my gee-eff, she was totally awesome in bed, for showing me how to use all muscles in a new way, if you know what I mean." Poland didn't notice Ukraine leave her spot on the stage silently. "I learned it ain't enough to bash in heads, you gotta bash in the minds, too! So, I'll be poverty's new sheriff, and I'll make those slums _fabulous_, 'cause a hero doesn't care if you're a buncha scary bums. But you gotta remember, everybody's a hero in their own less coolio way. Even if it's kinda hard, if you aren't a friggin' 'tard you'll totes get it. Even if, 'kay, like, you're an unfabulous person, you can be a-"

America emerged from under the tarp covering the statue of Poland and shot at him with his freeze ray. The beam hit him and Poland was stuck mid-dodge, a look of open-mouthed surprise on his face. America laughed darkly as the audience turned to face him, smirking as he jumped off the statue and walked down the aisle. Because he'd supplemented the freeze ray's power by plugging it into a wall, the lights above immediately went out and the emergency ones came on to replace them. Suddenly the room was dim, the spotlight that had been focused on Poland completely out. The brightest light in the room was the bright blue ray coming from the freeze ray and hitting Poland.

"Look at these people," America pondered as he walked slowly, "it's amazing how easy it is to get sheep lined up for the slaughter, isn't it? No one's condemned them, they're just lining up, like lemmings."

"Why can't they see it, though? They know what they're hearing is just lies." Canada asked softly, staring directly into the eyes of one of the homeless men in attendance.

"Maybe the fee's too pricey for them to realise. But your disguise," he said, going up the stairs leading to the stage, "is slipping." He said the final two words very softly, almost into Poland's ear, but everyone could hear him speak.

Canada laughed once, humourless. "Now that he's still as the grave you're frightened. But you're like cavemen fearing thunder, you don't _hear_ me."

America walked back down the stairs and looked at a group of Poland's fans. "I bring you pain," he told them softly, taking the face of one of the girls in his hand and forcing her to look at him. "The kind you can't suffer quietly." She whimpered when she met his eyes, but all America saw was how she had cut her hair to match Poland's. Such a shame. He let the girl be.

"Maybe that'll wake you up and remind you, inside you're rioting." He was at the back of the room again, and he did a spin that was nearly whimsical, pulling his new death ray from under his labcoat. He fired once at the ceiling, the sound loud in the silent room. Now people were screaming, many of them trying to get out of their chairs and run away.

"Go ahead, run away, say it was horrible," Canada urged. "Tell your friends, tell the press! Get a pic," he told a photographer, "do a blog," he advised with an wry smile.

"Heroes are over with," America declared. "Look at him, not a word! Hammer me _now_!" He fired another shot into the ceiling and watched the people retreating wildly. The chaos was a sight to behold, with some people so frightened and confused they were simply trying to hide among the rows of seats. "Then I win and I get everything I ever- all the cash! All the fame! And social change. Anarchy that I run! It's finally my turn!" There were only a few people left in the room, all clinging to chairs except for a journalist writing furiously on a little pad of paper. Good to see his impromptu speech would come out right on the news. "You people all have to learn-" he shouted with renewed zeal. He leaned over the journalist's shoulder and advised him that his name was spelled with a "c", not a "k" as Russia would have them believe. "-this world is going to _burn_!"

The few remaining people were dead silent as Canada approached Poland and levelled the death ray at him. "There's no sign of Ukraine. Good, I don't want her to see this. It's going to be bloody.

"Keep your head up, Canada. You can do it," he prompted himself. "Here goes no mercy..." Canada paused, drawing the courage to pull the trigger and quickly end Poland's life. He hesitated, and heard the freeze ray powering down, having used its phlebotinum fuel up and pre-programmed to cut off the electricity from the wall socket when that happened. The normal lights came up, as did the spotlight, illuminating the room again.

"That's not a good sound," Canada said, turning to the freeze ray. He turned back to Poland and was immediately punched in the face. He fell and slid halfway down the aisle, the death ray bouncing as it hit the ground, as people sighed with relief. The madman was under control. Only Ukraine, hiding behind a stack of chairs in the back, was uncertain if the hero's revival was a good thing.

Poland approached Canada, scooping up the sparking and hissing weapon as he went, pushed the villain back to the ground with his foot, and finished his own speech. "-be a hero, too, so 'kay thanks, bye." There was a brief pause as Poland read the label of the gun he was holding. "A death ray? _Someone's_ finally movin' up! I wonder if this works better than your other fail stuff." He pointed the weapon at Canada.

"Don't..." he gasped, lying helplessly under Poland's foot. The death ray could do anything at this point, damaged as it was.

"Jus' shut up and take it like a man!" Poland hissed back. He pulled the trigger. The death ray exploded.

The wave of energy the unused phlebotinum released tossed Poland back onto the stage, where he landed with the horrible noise of his shoulder being disconnected and a scream of pain. "Shiiiiiiiiit!" he screeched, clutching his shoulder tightly. Canada stood, amazingly unscathed except for a light singeing of one of his eyebrows. Coughing, he dusted himself off. Poland had barrelled out the room, unable to take the first bit of true pain he'd experienced in his life.

Quickly, Canada took stock of what had happened. The phlebotinum had exploded, shattering the death ray and embedding the pieces of shrapnel deep into the wall. The people still in the room were cowering, hiding further behind chairs when they thought he was looking at them. He felt joy ride within him, finally respected as a villain, his nemesis just defeated.

The beginnings of his smile died when he saw Ukraine.

He knelt by her side, gasping her name feebly. He tried to do something with his hands, eyes searching for a sign that what had happened would be easy to fix. But her shrapnel wounds were very much real, and Canada knew that she would not live long having been run through by the sharp, jagged pieces of metal. He touched her dark, thick blood with his white gloves.

"Canada? Is it you?" she asked weakly, her eyes unfocused as she tried to raise her face to meet Canada's gaze. He was looking around the room, as if the miracle that would save her was there and he just needed to find it.

"Ukraine, please hold on," he begged. A string of noes passed his lips, one of his hands resting in her blood while the other restlessly wandered, trying to find – to remember – how to save her.

"Are you alright?" she asked gently, distressed by his distress. She still wasn't looking him in the eyes, but now Canada ducked his head in order to meet her gaze, willing her to hold on while help was on its way. His restless hand found one of hers, lying limp on the ground.

"It's okay," she whispered, a smile ghosting on her lips. "You're safe with Poland here." He nearly cried, clutching her limp fingers so tightly it must have been painful, trying to hold her gaze even as Ukraine's head sank and her already unfocused eyes grew dark. Her chin pressed against her collarbone and Canada released her hand. A hundred thousand things tried to rush up his throat at once, choking him. _You're beautiful_ snarled with _hold on_, and _I actually hated laundry before you_ caught up with _I'm sorry_, and _I love you_ entangled with _I'm not safe with Poland_. Only gasps and the raw syllables of everything he wanted to say escaped.

A camera flashed, blinding Canada for a minute. "America, why'd you kill her?" the reporter asked. The villain looked up, and would recall later that in the position he looked like an animal hunched over its kill. More cameras flashed too bright, too unreal, while all the questions melded into a constant background chatter. A bolt of clarity hit him. He'd just _won_. He trembled with the revelation, staring open-mouthed at Ukraine's limp body. It occurred to him that when people won, they sang.

"Here lies everything – the world I've wanted at my feet," he sang tunelessly. "My victory's complete," he knelt back down, next to Ukraine, "so hail to the king.

"Arise and sing," he urged himself.

"Your world is benign," Canada whispered, lifting Ukraine into his arms and walking towards the stretcher. "You think justice has a voice, that all of us can choose our lives." He set her down on the stretcher and dared a final tender caress to her cheek through his glove. "I'll hold on to that for you," he promised. The stretcher was wheeled away, leaving Canada alone in the room.

"I'll be fine," he lied.

-...-

Korea opened the door to get the newspaper lying there, and saw the headline "America: The Worst Villain Ever". A second header read "Hero's Girlfriend Murdered". He turned to his TV and flipped it onto the news. The anchors were barely holding back tears as they delivered the details of the event.

Before he had time to comprehend what the report meant, the phone rang.

"Care to go on a heist?" America invited cheerfully. Korea clenched his teeth together and momentarily mourned the loss of his friend.

"I'm in."

-...-

_villain450  
_2010-06-18 5:46 am (local) (link)  
first comment! XD

great job getting into the legue but what happened to the end of your video you're just sitting there.

-.

_Bad_Horse_rules!  
_2010-06-18 7:45 am (local) (link)  
Dude, you're in the Evil League of Evil! It's kinda full circle that your last blog entry is just before your official entrance, huh? But you might want to crop out the end of your video. There's like fifteen seconds of you just sitting there.

-.

_LiechtensteinGirl  
_2010-06-18 11:23 am (local) (link)  
Goodness, has it already been three months? Time flies, doesn't it?

But look at you, you've made it to the big leagues, just like you always wanted. I suppose now you'll have to find a new dream to chase. I always wanted to ask, though, why you decided to kill that woman. She seemed harmless enough, even kind of cute once you got past the dead. I'm guessing by the pictures in the papers from back then that it's a personal matter.

And I agree with Bad_Horse_rules!, that last fifteen seconds is highly unnerving. I was expecting a screamer.

-.

_Lady Armageddon  
_2010-06-18 10:52 pm (local) (link)  
Hey, America. Sorry I haven't spoken in the last few months. I've been... reeling.

I'm so shocked, that you would actually rampage in a new homeless shelter and kill an innocent woman in the process. I know you've joked about being too nice, but it seemed completely out of your capacity to murder someone else, let alone a helpless woman like that. Was it because she was Poland's girlfriend or something?

These past few months you've gotten frightening, America. What happened to talk about changing the government and eliminating poverty and homelessness at its roots? Now that you're being initiated into the Evil League of Evil, it's like you're a completely different person. I'm not going to lie, I'm afraid for you. I'm afraid _of_ you, and that's was never the case before you killed that woman.

I wonder, are you still that idealist that you were when you started this blog?

Sincerely,  
Lady Armageddon

-...-

A/N: Thank you very much for reading this fic. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did~

Also, if you're curious, you can ask for my own character analysis in a review and hear what I have to say about them, which may have some background information you'd enjoy. I'd love to hear what you thought of this, though!


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